The Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid

July 10, 2006
Though billed as memoir, Bryson's follow-up to A Short History of Nearly Everything
can only be considered one in the broadest sense. Sure, it's filled with Bryson's recollections of his Des Moines, Iowa, childhood. But it's also a clear foray into Jean Shepherd territory, where nostalgia for one's youth is suffused with comic hyperbole: "All sneakers in the 1950s had over seven dozen lace holes," we're told; though all the toys were crummy, it didn't matter because boys had plenty of fun throwing lit matches at each other; and mimeograph paper smelled wonderful. The titular Thunderbolt Kid is little more than a recurring gag, a self-image Bryson invokes to lash out at the "morons" that plague every child's existence. At other times, he offers a glib pop history of the decade, which works fine when discussing teen culture or the Cold War but falls flat when trying to rope in the Civil Rights movement. And sometimes he just wants to reminisce about his favorite TV shows or the Dick and Jane books. The book is held together by sheer force of personality—but when you've got a personality as big as Bryson's, sometimes that's enough.

September 1, 2006
-I can't imagine there has ever been a more gratifying time or place to be alive than America in the 1950s, - writes Bryson ("A Walk in the Woods"), and his wryly amusing stories of his childhood in Des Moines almost convince the reader this is true. Bryson recounts the world of his younger self, buried in comic books in the Kiddie Corral at the local supermarket, resisting civil defense drills at school, and fruitlessly trying to unravel the mysteries of sex. His alter ego, the Thunderbolt Kid, born of his love for comic-book superheroes and the need to vaporize irritating people, serves as an astute outside observer of life around him. His family's foibles are humorously presented, from his mother's burnt, bland cooking to his father's epic cheapness. The larger world of 1950s America emerges through the lens of -Billy's - world, including the dark underbelly of racism, the fight against communism, and the advent of the nuclear age. Recommended for public libraries. [See Prepub Alert, "LJ" 6/1/06.]" -Alison M. Lewis, Drexel Univ. Lib., Philadelphia"

Copyright 2006 Library Journal, LLC Used with permission.

October 1, 2006
Adult/High School-The Thunderbolt Kid was born in the 1950s when six-year-old Bryson found a mysterious, scratchy green sweater with a satiny thunderbolt across the chest. The jersey bestowed magic powers on the wearerX-ray vision and the power to zap teachers and babysitters and deflect unwanted kisses from old people. These are the memoirs of that Kid, whose earthly parents were not really half bada loving mother who didn't cook and was pathologically forgetful, but shared her love of movies with her youngest child, and a dad who was the greatest baseball writer that ever lived and took his son to dugouts and into clubhouses where he met such famous players as Stan Musial and Willie Mays. Simpler times are conveyed with exaggerated humor; the author recalls the middle of the last century in the middle of the country (Des Moines, IA), when cigarettes were good for you, waxy candies were considered delicious, and kids were taught to read with Dick and Jane. Students of the decade's popular culture will marvel at the insular innocence described, even as the world moved toward nuclear weapons and civil unrest. Bryson describes country fairs and fantastic ploys to maneuver into the tent to see the lady stripper, playing hookey, paper routes, church suppers, and more. His reminiscences will entertain a wide audience."Jackie Gropman, Chantilly Regional Library, Fairfax County, VA"

Copyright 2006 School Library Journal, LLC Used with permission.

July 1, 2006
Travel humorist Bryson took a decisive stand regarding his hometown almost 20 years ago when he published the story "Fat Girls in Des Moines" in " Granta" magazine. Now the author of " A Walk in the Woods" (1998) and " I'm a Stranger Here Myself" (1999) delves more deeply into his midwestern roots in a bittersweet, laugh-out-loud recollection of his growing-up years. "I can't imagine there has ever been a more gratifying time or place to be alive than America in the 1950s," Bryson notes, and his wry account gives as much attention to spiraling American prosperity and the escalating arms race as it does to the elusive strippers at the state fair and the popularity of comic-book superheroes (a group Bryson was certain he belonged to after discovering a mysterious wool jersey emblazoned with a thunderbolt in his basement). Throughout, Bryson pays homage to his father, "the best baseball writer of his generation," and his "wholesome, friendly, nurturing community," complete with movie palaces, cafeterias, and a castlelike elementary school (where his lax attendance led to his "missing more days than a boy with a fatal illness"). This affectionate portrait wistfully recalls the bygone days of " Burns and Allen" and downtown department stores but with a good-natured elbow poke to the ribs. (Reprinted with permission of Booklist, copyright 2006, American Library Association.)